Perfect Pink Love
by nimless vs HiM'e'iTSu
Summary: The Undertaker meets a strange beautiful maiden in pink. Oh, who knew their accidental meeting would lead to a chain of unbearably stupid adventures. And how will the Undertaker react when he'll find out that the "maiden" isn't a maiden at all?
1. A Pink Angel

This story was written by two people, HiM'e'iTSu and nimless. It's full of stupid situations and idiotic actions of poor characters:) But we still hope you'll like it.

**Disclaimer**: We do not own Kuroshitsuji...Oh, but we wish we did...

* * *

It was a nice spring morning with birds singing their melodic songs, the air itself was filled with a calm sense of joy that was hard to replicate. People were walking along a beautiful green alley that was decorated with flowerbeds alongside it. But even the beauty of the red, white, and pink roses couldn't compare to one single maiden. The attention of lonely strangers and the associates of big companies were caught by that mysterious figure.

The sun was reflecting dazzlingly on the frames of her glasses, which were decorated tastefully with small diamonds and rubies. A large, heart shaped ruby necklace was bouncing with every dainty step the beauty took, almost disappearing under the line of her décolleté, the smaller versions of it decorated her ears.

Every five minutes a slender hand was raised and with a light and obviously practiced motion, tucked in a stray lock of silky auburn hair that had lost its place from under the little pink hat that was decorated with three roses. With every blow of the spring wind the pink bows of the hat flew in different directions, sometimes falling to settle upon her bare shoulders.

Her bright pink dress could make every woman of fashion green with envy. The awe drawingmaiden got a couple of angry looks from ladies whose admirers were eyeing her openly, the awe clearly written on their faces. The corset that she was wearingclung to her slender figure seductively, attracting even more attention to her persona. A very narrow pink skirt clung to the curves of her lower body, showing it off with extreme taste. It was a few centimeters shorter on the front, so that ruby covered shoes with incredibly high heels could be seen, the clicked loudly when connecting with the hard surface of the alley. The maiden's movements were a little sharp as the narrow dress restricted her every movement, but that did not take away from her appeal, on the contrary, any man could say she was charming.

Expensive jewelry, which were mostly rubies, decorated the long red train going down from her slim waist and to the ground. The laces and pink embroidery on the red of the train made the dress look even more luxurious.

In addition to all that the maiden had a tiny pink bag in her pink gloved hands.

_Oh, I look stunning today!_ Thought Grell as he continued his walk in the park.

_Who could have guessed that old hag had such a wardrobe full of so wonderful dresses!_ _I was so lucky to be the one to collect her soul! She_ smiled widely, thought careful not to show _her_ sharp tooth – Grell doubted humans would appreciate it.

_Such a shame that __Sebas-chan__isn't here to witness my eternal beauty!_ The smile turned into a frown he thought about the handsome demon. _He disappeared not even saying goodbye…That cruel man! He broke my poor heart into a million pieces! _Grell sighed sadly.

_To think of it**, **__Will is so cold to me all the time…_ He sighted again and brushed a fake tear away. _I know it's because I'm a __**man**__! Oh…_ Grell shook his head from one side to another as if trying to get rid of an unpleasant thought.

_Next time…Next time I meet my perfect man I will not tell him about real gender until I'm sure he can't live without seeing my cute face every day!_

_Now…who should be my next love?_

*****

The Undertaker was walking through the same park, his eyes slightly clouded and a dreamy smile on his scared face. He had just been in the famous Chinese circus, to their last performance before leaving London forever. He watched the passers by, not actually paying attention to them, while something caught his eye. It was a flash of pink. Bright pink in fact. Someone in a bright pink dress. The Undertaker grinned as he watched the beautiful maiden took a little mirror from her pink bag and stared at her own reflection lovingly. Tiny red scissors fell on the ground in process. The maiden looked down at the "little weapon" probably thinking if she should pick them up herself, which must be pretty difficult in such a tight fittingdress.

Undertaker's grin winded when he imagined it in his perverted mind. Though he didn't have a pleasure to witness it because a gentleman who was passing by helped the young lady by falling on one knee, picking the scissors up and handing them to her. She batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly while muttering a quiet and timid "Thank you."

_Oh…My Pink Angel._

*****

Next day, Grell was skipping down the crowded London street while singing under his breath.

_London Bridge is falling down,_

_Falling down, falling down._

_London Bridge is falling down,_

_My fair Lady._

The red shinigami was in extremely good mood that day: he had finally decided who will be the man Grell can give an honor of being blindly in love with his beauty.

_Oh, Undertaker, my love! Wait for me, I'm already on my way to your nice home!_

He danced not slowing his pace, happy and anxious to see the man of his dreams.

_Just you wait, my love!_

*****

The Undertaker was working in his quite cozy and peaceful workshop making yet another lovely coffin. He was having a lot of fun spending time in the darkness, not bothered by the lack of human contact while he was doing what he loved to do the most. The door burst open, giving wake to a whirl of pink silk and long, soft auburn hair. When the pink wind died down the Undertaker was able to see the intruder. It was _that_ maiden, now in a light pink dress with lots of frills that was cut quite high. There was a rose tucked in her brown a little messy now hair.

The Undertaker watched how the maiden's eyes scanned the room before stopping on him. The expression of determination that she had worn so proudly before had instantly vanished from her beautiful face.

"Oh, Undertaker!" She whined.

Tears appeared in those yellow-green eyes, she rushed to him, the pink silky skirt going up with the sudden movement letting the Undertaker catch a glimpse of long, pale legs. The man sighed when it returned to it's normal place. Though his disappointment did not last long. The maiden whined again and with the cry "Undertaker, I need your help!" put her leg in high heeled shoes, pink of course, on the nearest coffin. The one he had just varnished. The Undertaker almost shouted at the person ruining his work of the past two days, but was distracted by the sight of the pale leg, now open for his ogling, once again.

"So…how can I help you, my Lady?" The Undertaker asked in his sweetest voice.

"My husband died!" The maiden cried out.

"Huh?" _A widow?...A widow __**in pink**__?_

"Yes! Me dear husband…He…He left for work at night. He was a member of parliament, you see…"

"Huh?" _Since when do the members of parliament work at night?_

"His coach was attacked. Those bandits…" She started crying once again.

It was just a miracle how she was turning from serious, when telling the story, to flirtatious, when waiting for an answer and then to grieving when she realized no answer was coming. While the Undertaker contemplated on that thought, the widow in pink continued.

"He tried to run away…almost got away successfully…But then hewas attacked by homeless dogs…My poor husband."

"Huh?" _Run away from bandits only to be eaten by dogs?_

"His body was found in the river this morning." She finished gloomily.

"Huh?" _A river?_

"Well you see…" She tried to explain seeing his questioning gaze. "The detective said when he was running from the dogs he had caught onfire from one of the torches on the bank of the river, and in order to extinguish it he jumped in the water. But…I guess it was his unlucky day. It's spring and not all the ice has melted. He fell and hit his head on it…a few times…a few dozen times. Got a concussion and then the ice finally broke and he drowned…And now I need your services!" She exclaimed cheerfully.

"Huh?" _She seems happy about loosing her husband. _The Undertaker grinned. _Well, that's good for me. My Pink Angel._

*****

Grell grinned himself when he saw the Undertaker look at him with interest.

_Hm, good. My story worked well. I wanted to add a crazy maniac in it but in the last moment decided against it, this just wouldn't seem true. The maniac in London? Unlikely. This city is too peaceful for that!_

"So, my Lady. Let me lead you to another room where you can choose a coffin to your liking." The Undertaker suggested.

"Oh, of course." Answered Grell, batting his eyelashes in what he thought was a playful fashion. The dark shinigami indicated with his head to the door on the left and waited for the lady to go first. Grell lifted his skirt and rushed to the door; he just couldn't act calmly when the man was near him, and he also assumed that the way his skirt swung around him when he "rushed" was plain beautiful.

Well, at least he _tried_ to rush to the door – he did not succeed in that though. Only when he tried to lift his leg and started falling did the "beautiful maiden" realized that the coffin was varnished. Also, the fact that his leg was now stuck to the coffin.

He fell to the floor rather ungracefully, his leg still attached to the coffin's lid, his skirt going up, leaving his white bloomers with pink bows to the open view. Then he heard the hysterical laugh of the Undertaker. "My Lady, let me help you."

"My shoe…" Grell whined – he really liked those pink shoes.

The Undertaker came up to the coffin, which was the prison for the poor piece of cloth and the maiden's leg now.

"Hm, I suppose I won't b able to save the shoe, my Lady."

"Oh, no!"

"Well, I can cut off your leg, but I don't think you'll be pleased by it."

"Brake the coffin!" The maiden demanded, not wanting to lose such a priceless companion to a set of gorgeous shoes.

"No." The Undertaker answered sternly. He was not going to ruin all his work just because of the caprice of one beauty. "The leg or the shoe. Choose."

The maiden was thoughtful for a moment. The leg was dear to Grell, but the shoe…It was so…_pink_.

"Fine. The leg! Save my leg!" She cried.

The Undertaker put down the knife he took while she was lost in thoughtand gently unlaced the pink bow holding the shoe and freed the leg. The maiden got up, but did not follow the man to the other room. "My Lady?" The dark man asked while standing in the doorframe. Her face was unreadable, but he could tell she wasn't going to flirt anymore.

"I lost my favorite shoe because of you!"

"Huh?" _So?_

The beauty was looking straight at him, or more like glaring.

"My Lady?" The Undertaker glanced at her carefully – for the short time he had known this maiden he had realized she was rather unpredictable.

"You are going to compensate me forit!"

"What?!...I mean, huh?"

"You still do not realize how much these shoes cost, do you?"

"Huh?"

The maiden looked really angry now. "So?"

"Huh?"

"You'll be my slave for a day!" She stated, then turned away and left the "Undertaker's".

"Huh?" He stared dumbfounded at the spot she was standing just a second ago. "And what about the coffin?"

* * *

That was only the first chapter:) And of course we need reviews to write the second. We need to know if someone is interested in reading more of this awesome and stupid story!

So, leave a review and tell us what you think!

If you have any suggestions how Grell can torture the Undertaker please tell us:) If we like your suggestions, we'll be happy to write it!


	2. The Devil in Pink

Our thanks to a marvelous beta **Corrupted Innocence**, previosly known as Hikasa.

And don't take this story seriously:)

**Disclaimer:** Characters do not belong to us...

* * *

The Undertaker sat in a large chair made of dark, almost blackened wood behind the matching desk in his workshop. He couldn't seem to work at the moment, which was very unusual for him, as it was a well-known fact how much he loved his job. The thought of such a captivating Pink Angel warping into a Devil in Pink was at the forefront in his mind. He wondered how he managed to get himself in something as absurd as this.

"_You'll be my slave for a day!"_

Those incredibly shocking words echoed in his head, and the angry expression on such a delicate, pretty face haunted him now in his dreams.

_How can something so charming be so __frightening__?_

He glanced at the clock, the longest arrow was slowly moving to the number twelve written in gothic font. Five more minutes and the Devil in Pink would return, most likely crashing into something in process and bringing chaos along with her. He could just begin to think of the torture that he would possibly be subjected to.

_What if she'll make me wear pink too? _He thought in horror. He didn't have anything against the colour, even loved it. But he couldn't wear it! It would ruin his mysterious image! The Undertaker didn't have enough time to mourn on that thought, though. He had just went through the latest scenario that he would possibly be put through when the door burst open and someone dressed in a tight dress, made of pink leather, stepped over the threshold. It was the somewhat dreaded (by him at least,) devil dressed in pink. The maiden's shoulders were completely bare, and only two thin black laces tied in a knot on the back of her neck prevented her dress from falling and revealing the girl's entire décolletage.

Oh how the Undertaker wanted to cut those laces, and not only because of revenge. While he found that pink was a strange colour to pick to dress in, he found that the maiden managed to grasp both the seductive and awe inspiring looks in one ensemble. In short, it was nothing less than frightening.

The Devil in Pink turned to face him, and to his great shock and hidden amusement, he noticed that she held a leather whip within her gloved grasp.

"Hello, Undertaker." She whispered in a low voice, her eyes glinting excitedly behind her dark glasses.

"Ah…My Lady, I remember you wanting me to make a coffin for your deceased husband…"

"That can wait!" She answered quickly but determinedly. The Undertaker sighed as his attempt to make that day go easier for himself was shattered. "And now we are going shopping!"

"Huh?" _Shopping? __This makes hardly any sense at all. Whatever happened to her deceased husband?_He didn't dare ask this question aloud, there was too much riding on it. It was mainly the fear of being dressed in pink.

The two left the little shop, Grell with his head held high, seemingly not paying attention to the pink whip that was bouncing against his hip as he moved. The other shinigami followed, sulking the entire time. The two were such an odd spectacle that many stopped to stare at them.

Suddenly Grell stopped.

"My Lady?"

"There's a pool of mud." The maiden stepped away to let the Undertaker see the sickening green liquid blocking their way.

"We can bypass it."

Grell thought about it for a moment; a pool of mud was not that large, but…Oh, he just thought of a brilliant idea. He had thought of an incredibly brilliant, devious idea.

"No. You'll carry me. Make sure to treat me properly my dear. The only way to accomplish that would be to carry me like a bride over such an annoyance."

"My Lady? Wouldn't it be easier to choose another way?" The Undertaker asked hopefully.

"Of course not! Don't even think about it! Now do the job already."

Grell glared at the poor man and the later had no choice but to obey. The Undertaker stepped closer to the angry mademoiselle, then very slowly and very carefully he put one hand on her back, after that as carefully, like she could start screaming and hitting him any second, he put his other hand to the maiden's knees and yet again hesitantly lifted her. The Undertaker stepped over the pool of mud, wetting his long black robe, careful not to drop the beauty in his arms; strangely she was rather heavier than she looked. As soon as he was on the other side of the pool he put her down and took a quick step to the side. But when the dark shinigami threw a glance at themaidensurprised that she didn't look angry anymore. A nice pink blush covered her cheeks and she looked kind of sweet that way. The maiden coughed and somewhat awkwardly ordered the other man to follow.

For the next few hours the Undertaker went through the hell of choosing new dresses, which were mostly pink, buying shoes, hats, gloves, corsets, laces and so on and so on…So the Undertaker had more than enough time to think about the person who was the main cause of his suffering, the one who in one moment had changed his peaceful life in some shopaholics heaven, meaning a real hell for an ex-shinigami and now the coffin maker.

She definitely could be called a mysterious woman. He still didn't know her name, which was very strange because never had an idea to ask for it occurred in the Undertaker's mind. Was it because his thoughts were preoccupied with more important things? Such as how was he going to survive through the whole day of nonstop shopping? It was boring and being bored was what he hated the most, well maybe after watching those awfully performing clowns. The only entertainment were the moments when the beautiful maiden shouted at the poor shopkeepers, if they were not fast enough or couldn't find a ribbon the shade of the colour she wanted. She was strange, the Undertaker assumed; not like any other woman he had ever met. He could call her pretty and charming, he found her a little too feminine, a little too playful, and it was as if most of the time she was acting. It was only sometimes when the things didn't go her way, when it was his turn to make something unexpected and startle her , the maiden finally showed her true nature. It was nice to see her blushing and surprised face, but even considering all that most of the time spent around her was hell. He was brought back from his thoughts by a sweet voice.

"Undertaker, dear. Can you please hold this for me?" She sent him a smile and handed the bag, packed to the brim with clothes.

It was still a couple hours past noon and the Undertaker was already very doubtful if he would be able to live through the day. After a few more hours of restless shopping the maiden seemed to calm down and finally, oh finally, decided to have lunch (though much later then its proper time the Undertaker was in no position to complain).

Sitting in a little café along one of the busy streets of London, the Undertaker found that he could get some rest and have a cup of hot, overly sweet black tea, while watching the elegant maiden devouring one piece of strawberry cake after another. Assuming she was in a good mood, the coffin maker decided it was a good time to ask a question that had been bothering him for quiet a long time.

"My Lady," he started carefully. "For how long are you going to use my services today?"

"Well…The deal was for me to use you for a day…" The woman batted her long eyelashes innocently and the Undertaker realized she had something devious in mind for him. "So, I suppose you belong to me until 11 o'clock tomorrow morning since it's the exact time we met today…" she trailed off, looking positively ecstatic.

_She's a devil_. The Undertaker thought, though the next minute her tone softened and she continued.

"But I'll have some mercy on you, sweetheart. 'Till midnight will be good enough for me."

_This was definitely hell, a pink coloured one.**  
**_

*****

Grell smiled at the stunned man. He just couldn't take his eyes from the Undertaker sitting at the table across from him. Grell's idol belonged to him, not for long-- but still it was a pure happiness.

"Is there anything else you would like to do today, my Lady?"

_Oh, so careful and tactful! _Grell beamed. _No wonder I've chosen him._

"Thank you, I've bought everything I needed."

The Undertaker's eyes sparkled and he sighed in relief, hoping they could do something less awful then shopping.

"Though…"

The Undertaker's breath hitched as he waited for the maiden to continue.

"You know…I'd like to buy a pet."

"A pet, my Lady?"

"Yes! A cat, a dog maybe. Do you know of any good pet shops in London?"

"I remember one of my clients mentioned something about a pet shop. I believe she said her father was eaten by one of the pets."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Grell's smile widened. "Where is this shop?"

"If I remember correctly it's somewhere in the Chinese district."

"Good then. It's our next destination."

*****

A dark narrow street was overcrowded with people in Chinese attire. A dark, heavy smell of incense filled the evening air, lamp lights that have just been lit and mixing with whole atmosphere of the place made the Chinese district look mysterious and maybe even dangerous. Grell loved it.

The pair stopped in front of a little shop with stairs going down and a sign "Count D" hanging above the entrance.

"I believe that's the place you need, my Lady." The Undertaker commented politely. He dreaded going inside, the whole atmosphere was exiting and frightening at the same time. After hearing so many rumors about the shop he finally got a chance to visit it, to know if everything that was said about it was true. The grey haired man stepped first down the dark stairs and helped the lady. Grell took the offered hand gratefully; it was very uncomfortable to move in the narrow dress he was wearing.

The wooden doors opened before them and a pair stepped inside. Grell smelled the sweet scent quickly, it was too heavy but still he couldn't find it unpleasant, on the contrary the smell of burning incense was relaxing to him. The room was large, dimly lit with a lot of candles on the little table in the corner and some shelves near the brightly decorated walls. The first things that caught his eyes were several wooden and metal cages with beautiful birds locked inside. What struck Grell as odd was the fact that all of them kept absolutely silent, and there was no noise except the tickling of a large grandfather clock.

The Undertaker also looked around taking in a velvet sofa and a table, to which the maiden didn't pay any attention.

"May I help you with something, dear clients?" A soft quiet voice was heard and the pair turned to see a young Chinese man in a changshan with embroidered golden and red dragons, straight black hair reached his shoulders.

"Are you count D?" The Undertaker asked.

The man kept silent, with a charming smile plastered on his handsome face he took a step closer and they were able to make out his accurate features with multi colored eyes, one golden and one a deep purple, and the two didn't miss his pale skin, which stood out almost as much as his eyes did.

"So, are you count D?" Grell repeated the question when he came to a conclusion that the silence had lasted for too long.

"No." The man answered. "I'm his grandfather."

For a moment Grell stopped to think _Grandfather? Isn't he too young for that? _but he quickly brushed that though away, finding the situation at hand much more interesting.

"I look after the shop in his absence."

"Good then, the Lady wanted to buy a pet."

The young man smiled mischievously and answered in that soft tone he seemed to prefer using when talking to is clients:

"Then you've came to the right place. I've got something that will be perfect for you."

"Oh, that's so nice of you!" Grell almost positively squealed out.

"Follow me. I'm sure you'll like it."

With a wide smile the maiden did as she was told, the Undertaker wanted to follow them but was stopped by a polite request from the owner of the pet shop.

"I'm sorry, but it's very important for the future owners to meet their pets without any disturbance. I'll bring your precious lady back in one piece, I promise." He reassured him.

The words were calming, but the Undertaker didn't like how they sounded when they came from the man's suspiciously grinning mouth. Grell though didn't pay any attention to it, his mind stopped working after the words "your precious lady," giving way for his rich imagination.

*****

Grell walked down the long expensively decorated corridor with the owner of the pet shop leading the way few steps ahead. It seemed they were walking for a couple of minutes already but the shop didn't look that big from the outside, or more like the shinigami would claim it was tiny. They stopped in front of a large iron door, with a lot of chains and countless huge locks. By the time the owner opened the last one Grell was intrigued to no end.

"I'm sure you'll like this pet. It's just like you, my _lady_."

The way he said it, stressing the last word and if the strange glint in his multi-colored eyes meant anything, Grell shivered due to an unknown reason. It was like the mysterious man knew _everything_ about Grell's true nature.

*****

The Undertaker paced the room restlessly waiting for the owner and the maiden to return. Quite a bit of time had passed since they went to the back rooms, too much time and the white haired shinigami was worried. He didn't like the way the Chinese man looked at the maiden, it was unnerving. The gaze of his mismatched eyes held something… The Undertaker couldn't place what was the emotion behind it, but the man was too suspicious to trust him. Still the shinigami could do nothing but wait.

Minutes passed and finally, the beautiful lady in pink and the Chinese man exited the door in the back of the room. The Undertaker sighed in relief and then noticed _something_ the maiden was holding in her arms.

"Undertaker~" She chirped out happily, rushing over to him and shoving _the creature_ right into the man's face. "Isn't it charming?"

The Undertaker stared at the fluffy ball before him. It was something resembling a dog, or maybe it was supposed to look like one; it's big black eyes, almost completely hidden by bright pink fur, could be even called cute, but large fangs which could be seen when the creature made strange noises, sounding like something between barks and mewls, were surprisingly threatening.

"It's a very…unusual pet, my Lady." He choked out and stepped away from _that thing_.

"I'm very happy you liked it." The owner commented with a polite bow. "Should we sign the contract then?"

"Sure we should!" The maiden agreed, she was obviously ecstatic about it, the Undertaker though didn't like what was happening at all, but yet again he could do nothing. He looked at the piece of parchment in her hands and three contract points:

_1. Feed it with sweets seven times a day_

_2. Never mistake its gender!_

_3. Never ever under __any__ circumstances lock it inside a coffin made of ten thousand year old aspen cut down on the third night after the full moon,__ with ten roses carved in the lid,__ upholstered with red silk __weaved by three young unmarried sisters born on one day with two years difference, one blonde, one brunette and one redhead. _

The maiden signed it without paying any attention to the rules at all.

"I hope you'll take proper care of it. But please keep it in your mind …if you do not adhere to each point of the contract then this store cannot be held responsible for the consequences. "

"Sure, sure! Of course I will!" The maiden assured him and they left the shop.

But the Undertaker's suffering wasn't over as the lady suddenly decided that it was absolutely necessary for her to by a new fan that would match wonderfully with her new pet. The same old fashioned form of torture that was shopping came crashing down on the shinigami, including carrying enormous bags and looking after the pink creature, which was supposedly a dog. When he finally got to his peaceful workshop he was exhausted and irritated.

"Undertaker, sweetheart, I've got one last task for you." The maiden cooed and the dark shinigami almost growled loudly. _How can such a beautiful woman be so annoying?  
_"I've got some business to do. Please, dear, look after the dog for me."

And with that she was gone and the Undertaker could swear the dog-alike creature glared at him for the sigh he heaved.

*****

Grell was incredibly happy; he had got to spend a whole day with his beloved Undertaker!

_Maybe it __could__ even be called a date? _The man decked out in pink thought happily. _Oh, he's so sweet. __I can't forget handsome and caring too__. __What I really wish that__ I could see __would be__ him in his 'super shinigami' attire. _Grell mused while he headed to where he had to meet William. Unfortunately the red haired shinigami still had his duties and no matter how much he wanted to throw all his enthusiasm into seducing his new beloved one, he still had a job to do. He found it so unfair!

_My__ stupid work is getting in the way of my love life! _Grell thought angrily as he neared the meeting place. Only then did he remember that he still was clad in a narrow pink dress. _Oh no, __I__ need to change…_

With that, he rushed to the opposite direction making William mad at him yet again for waiting for another hour.

*****

The Undertaker sat on the one of the coffins, tired and annoyed, staring at one particular spot, which was the right corner of the room, where on a piece of bright red cloth was sleeping a strange creature with pink fur, which he still couldn't understand how in the world it could be called a dog. The coffin maker had nothing against animals, even that particular animal, but he couldn't help but think _that __the __pink creature _was strange. Even from few meters away, he could easily see the long fangs in its half opened jaws.

The Undertaker was sure there was something very wrong with the so-called dog. Only a half an hour had passed since the maiden had left, _the thing_ was sleeping peacefully for all that time, but the coffin maker was not fooled.

He got up slowly and took a few steps towards _it_. Hesitantly the Undertaker reached his hand and lightly touched the colourful fur. Strangely, it was very soft and felt nicely beneath his large hand. He relaxed and thought that maybe it wouldn't be that difficult to deal with the creature.

"Hm, you can be sweet, girl." He mused aloud.

But then a low growl was heard and two large black eyes stared at him, obviously with malice. The Undertaker jerked his hand and backed away. The so-called dog stood up and, baring its long fangs, jumped at him. Quickly, with his shinigami skills on, he ducked away, caught it in the air and shoved into the nearest coffin, closing the lid. It was quiet and calm again. He sighed in relief.

_That thing is pretty irritating._

And then…A sound of scratching echoed through the workplace. A muffled squeak, and then another growl, came from the closed coffin, becoming louder and louder until finally reaching its peak and mixing with the sound of an abrupt splintering noise. The lid of the coffin burst into tiny pieces, flying in the air and a scary-looking creature leapt from the inside.

Its fur had turned from its once gaudy pink to bloody red, already threatening looking fangs had grown longer and bright burning eyes stared at him with hatred. It was definitely a creature that fit his personal devil in pink, taking such a demonic quality to it.It stepped closer to him, claws clicking against the floor with every slow step. Being just like a predator hunting its prey, which probably the Undertaker was to it, the dog spawned from hell wasn't taking its eyes from his figure, waiting for the best moment to attack.

A second passed and it leaped at him. The shinigami managed to duck away, but the dog attacked again. For nearly an hour they fought against each other, the Undertaker sometimes hitting his enemy, but mostly he just tried to avoid getting bitten. His work place was turned into a complete pandemonium, hell and chaos connecting and spreading throughout the place. Coffins were scratched, pieces of red and black silk clothes lying all over the place. The Undertaker wailed in disappointment, he was ready to rip the little thing apart. The only thing stopping him was the promise of the beautiful maiden's wrath, torments bringing eternal suffering. But when the pink fluffball dog of doom jumped up and bit fingers of his right hand the Undertaker made up his mind. That was it! He _was _going to kill the annoying creature.

*****

Grell dragged himself down the narrow road leading to "The Undertaker's". William made him catch up with all the work the red haired shinigami missed while drowning in his sorrows and looking for a new sweetheart. He was exhausted, barely had any powers to change from his normal shinigami clothes into beautiful black dress with red strips and wash blood from his face and hands. He wanted to see the Undertaker so much and maybe play with his new adorable dog. Oh, he already loved the little cute creature! While being on a mission Grell even thought about a good name for it. When he finally reached the place he tentatively knocked on the door before pushing it with a full strength. The sight that greeted him though made Grell freeze on the threshold.

There was an awful mess everywhere, splinters of glass and pieces of wood lying on the floor, covering furniture and even the highest shelves of the cupboard. In the very middle stood the Undertaker, his long fringe thrown back revealing angry face and eyes shining with fury, in his right arm lifted above his head a big silver knife glinted. Before him the pink dog, which strangely wasn't pink anymore, stood with its fangs bared and crazy eyes imitating the Undertaker's.

Grell's reaction was immediate. Even before the Undertaker acknowledged his presence the man in a dress had already rushed inside and took the pink dog in his arms, hugging it in to his chest protectively. The look of anger disappeared from the grey haired shinigami's face, replaced by confusion.

"My Lady?"

Grell glared at the man, but found himself unable to stay angry for long, charmed by those dark eyes of the Undertaker, which were not concealed by the long hair as always.

"Did you hurt my sweety?" Grell asked pouting and kissed the head of the now absolutely calm dog.

"But, my Lady…this--this…thing almost destroyed my house!" He actually stuttered out in suppressed anger.

"My little puppy can do no such thing. Look how cute and nice he is."

"But it's…Wait a minute! It's _male_?"

"Of course it is!" shouted Grell as if stating the most obvious thing in the world.

The Undertaker stared at the pink fluffy thing sited comfortably in the maiden's arms. It did not look like a _male_ for him, or maybe he was loosing his senses?

"Fine. I'll forgive you." The maiden said and despite more or less kind words her voice was cold.

"Huh?"

_Forgive? I don't remember apologizing even…_

"But…"

_Oh, that's where the bad part starts._

_Oh yes, that's the best part now! _Grell thought happily before continuing.

"…you have to spend tomorrow with me too." He ended with a huge grin.

The Undertaker caught a glimpse of long sharp teeth, but the grin disappeared quickly, leaving the man to wonder if he had just imagined it. And then when his hearing caught up with his sight, making the Undertaker fully register what was said, he was too shocked to ponder on the matter. He sighed and, obeying his misfortune, breathed out a weak:

"Yes, my Lady."

"Oh, good. Then we'll go on a walk now and it will be enough for today."

Two men and a dog left "The Undertaker's," the poor coffin maker slowly, very slowly taking step by step after the cheery maiden, with the little pink dog on a bright pink lash.

"Oh, Slashy, don't run far away, sweety." The young woman cooed.

"Huh? _Slashy_?"

"Oh yes, it's a wonderful name, isn't it?"

_I haven't heard anything more stupid in my life. _Thought the Undertaker, but aloud he said:

"Wonderful indeed. Does it have any…um…meaning?"

"Oh yes, it does! I new you'd understand! Well, actual the full name is _Sir Lancelot Arthur of Scottish Highlands_; in short – Slash and in cute – Slashy."

Horrified, the Undertaker stared at the little pink dog-like creature and came to a conclusion that he had never seen something scarier in his long life, considering he was one of the strongest shinigamis. Meanwhile the maiden grabbed his hand and led them both to the nearest park.

"I knew you'd like it!"

"Huh?"

_Like it? Never! _But he never voiced the protest and _not_ because he was afraid of some strange pink-lover. Definitely not!

After a half an hour of the walk the Undertaker had finally relaxed and even started considering it nice. That did not last long though, because when they exited the park through the main gates and turned to the narrow dark street of London, he noticed something quite unexpectedly.

"Oh, isn't that a clown lying over there with his face in the dirt?" Grell asked amused.

The Undertaker walked closer to the figure, it was a clown indeed, lying on his stomach so that the pair wasn't able to see his face. The grey haired shinigami carefully turned the body over with the tip of his shoe. When the light of the nearest lamp lit up the face of the man, the pair gasped. Despite all the white powder his face was all red, dark purple markings in the shape of a line circled his throat. Blood dripped from his mouth and mixed with the crimson liquid covering the area around his orange-wigged head. The streamer covered almost all the free space on the little street. His brightly coloured clothes were ripped as if he was fighting with someone…but judging by the fact that he was not breathing and all parts f his body not covered by the distasteful costume started showing the symptoms of rotting which obviously indicated he was very much and very long dead, the clown probably _was_ fighting. Unsuccessful as they considered all of the facts. What disappointed Grell the most though was the fact that some other shinigami had already taken his pitiful soul.

The Undertaker bent down to take a strange object from the dead man's mouth.

"Hm…What's that?" Grell asked with interest.

"It looks like a –"

But he didn't have a chance to finish his sentence because at that minute several people in police uniforms flooded the street, screaming loudly and pointing their guns on the Undertaker.

"Take him! He's the mass murderer!"

"Madam, please stay away from him!"

They shouted simultaneously, over screaming Grell's protest "Hey, I'm mademoiselle!" and making impossible to understand what they were actually meaning. Only when a man in a dark brown coat appeared and calmed them down the maiden managed to comprehend what was happening. Suddenly he felt worried for the fist time since he had met the other shinigami. He knew whatever it was going on, must be serious. It could mean trouble for both of them and especially for the Undertaker.

"Sir," the man, who seemed to be the boss, turned to the grey haired shinigami. "You are suspected in the serial slaying of clowns that have been happening in London."

* * *

**A/N:** That's all for now. We hope you liked it. And we definitely need reviews! As many as possible!!!:)

Oh, and was the mixing a character from the other fandom in this story good? The Count isn't going to appear anymore, though.

**HiM'e'iTSu**: Oh, and read my other stories, maybe you'll like them:)


	3. Red Incident

**A/N: **So the third chapter...It took us long to finish it, but we hope you'll like the result of our work.**  
**

**Beta: **Corrupted Innocence. Thank you for your great help:)

* * *

"Sir," the man, who seemed to be the boss, turned to the grey haired shinigami. "You are suspected in the serial slaying of clowns that have been happening in London."

The Undertaker stared at the detective standing in front of him; the man in turn didn't lift his eyes from the grey haired shinigami. A few moment passed, Grell nervously glancing from one to another, a plan to escape already forming in his twisted mind.

"I'm sure it's just a small misunderstanding, sir." The Undertaker said calmly. "I am not a slayer, I'm merely a witness."

_Hm…I haven't __killed anyone in a long time. Surely I would have remembered, especially because of the spectacular way these killings have been performed. _

The detective eyed him head to toe, and then turned to look at the corpse.

"We can give evidence if it's needed. I'm sure my lady here would be happy to help aswell." The Undertaker motioned with his hand at the maiden who had a somewhat troubled look on her face as if she was lost in her thoughts,not paying attention to her surroundings**.**

"Lady? Ah, and she's quite a lovely one at that." The detective looked at her thoughtfully. "May I know you name?"

"Grell." The younger shinigami answered automatically, but realized his mistake soon and hurried to add. "Gretel. Lady Gretel. I'm not giving you my family name until I'm sure I'm not going to be convicted with a murder." He said with a charming smile.

"I suppose this can be evidence, even if it does look to be fairly harmless." The Undertaker handed the detective the object he had taken from the dead clown's mouth; it appeared to be cracker.

_Killed by a cracker? What can be more absurd in this __situation?_

"Well, I guess you might be right, so you can-"

The detective didn't get to finish the sentence at that exact second Grell came out from his musing with a shout: "You won't get us alive!" Then he proceeded to grab Undertaker's hand and drag him behind himself as he rushed out of the narrow street.

_What the hell is she doing?! _The Undertaker thought incredulously, wanting nothing more than to ask her what exactly was going through her head as she led him away from the officers, their shouts and orders quickly becoming muted as the distance between them distorted their voices. _Now they'll think I really am a murderer!_

Grell's thoughts took a more optimistic turn compared to his grey haired companion's. _They are not going to take my precious Undertaker away from me. I know how those policemen work, they just grab the first suspect they got ant throw then in jail. No! That is not going to happen!_

And so they ran. One of them not having the slightest idea why they did it, but complying with the maiden's ideas because there was no chance to persuade the detective he was not the serial slayer anymore, the second thinking he was doing the right thing.

Taking one turn after another, dark narrow streets turning into even darker alleys, they just ran. Out of breath, but not stopping, complete darkness surrounding them with the only sounds of theirown heavy breathing and clicking of the maidens high heeled shoes. Occasional shouts of policemen chasing them still could be heard, not letting them stop even for a moment of rest.

Grell clutched the Undertaker's hand tightly leading their way through the night London. After another turn they came to a dead end, after that the coffin maker took the role of a leader dragging the maiden behind.

"This is so stupid." He mumbled to himself, turning right in an attempt to run away from the police. They stopped dead noticing that it was already occupied. Both stared in wonder at the person crouching above an unmoving figure on the ground.

"Is that…the famous Jack the Ripper?" The Undertaker asked in wonder.

Grell bristled, but he could only soundlessly screech his indignance within his mind. _He's__steeling my popularity! How dare he?!_

Though he was already dragged far away, he came to his senses again only when he noticed the Undertaker opening large iron gates of a cemetery.

"We might find shelter here." The grey haired shinigami explained. "I hope you are not afraid, my Lady."

"Oh no, this place is lovely!" Grell exclaimed before he could stop himself; it was such a nice opportunity to get closer to the Undertaker just pretending being scared**;** now it was wasted though.

The coffin maker didn't pay much attention to her enthusiasm too involved in looking for a good hiding place. His eyes wondered from one crypt to another, taking in the sorrowful figures of several weeping angels etched in marble and heavy, looming granite crosses. A couple of new, freshly dug graves were on their right as the Undertaker led the maiden further from the entrance where they could be easily spotted from the outside. A large dark willow loomed over a crypt, shadowing a dark, worn granite statue of a solemn man carrying a heavy tome in his hands. The Undertaker wondered briefly what could that mean but the next moment a huge crypt caught his eye, it obviously belonged to an old English noble family. Several indistinguishable statues were perched about the corners of the roof, serving to be protectors of the afterlife. The walls were standing tall and had an almost majestic feel to them; the dreary sounds of rain dripping from its eaves didn't even hinder the hauntingly poetic image it possessed.

_Oh, feels just like at hom__e. _The Undertaker thought with longing.

They passed it and went straight to a poorer looking one, little and without any lavish decorations. "That will do." The Undertaker mused aloud and tried opening the crypt. It appeared to be a very easy task, as he only had to apply a little force and the stone doors opened. It was completely dark inside at first, but when the light of the sun lit up the tomb the pair noticed a shining figure approaching them.

"What is that?" Grell squeaked and jumped behind the coffin maker glancing from the man's shoulder at the strange _stranger_.

"I'm sorry…" The creature mumbled. "This crypt is already occupied."

Grell whined and clung to the Undertaker while the other shinigami prepared to give a creature a fight and protect the maiden. But it did not stop, so the shining figure neared them with the same slow pace.

"Do not fear, My Lady."

"Oh, but what if it's one of _them_!" Grell whispered in the Undertaker ear, as the creature shined even more brightly blinding two men.

"It won't hurt you if it's ghost." _Even if it tries I can easily defeat it…The problem is I don't think it's a ghost. I have never seen anything like that in my life!_

"Please can you leave this place?" It pleaded. "I will not hurt you."

"I'm not afraid of ghosts!" Squeaked Grell, ignoring the whining of the shining creature. "But what if it's one of _those_! Look, it shines! This must be a creature of the _light_!"

His voice rose hysterically at the end so even that thing was able to hear. _Oh, if its one of those strange things who actually thinks that shinigami are evil and desperately try to fight us…I think I'll have to fight. But revealing myself to the maiden…_

"I'm not a creature of the light." It said regrettably interrupting the Undertakers thoughts. "I'm a vampire."

The coffin maker and the maiden both froze in shock.

"D-Did I hear him right?" Stuttered Grell in an amazed tone, his breath ghosting across the Undertaker's ear. "Did he say a _vampire_?"

"Yes, my dear Lady. Unfortunately I'm a vampire. But I promise I'm not going to drink your blood." He explained hurriedly.

"Why not?" Asked Grell as if offended. He couldn't see the expression on the creature's face because of the light, but judging by the gasp 'the vampire' was startled.

"Wait a minute." The Undertaker asked quietly, his tone now absolutely calm. "You claim that you are a vampire?"

"Yes…it's so tragically, but I am."

"But vampires do not _shine_!"

"Oh, but they do, Sir."

"What the hell! It's idiotic!" Grell shouted.

"My Lady, I doubt such language is appropriate for a young lady."

Grell lowered his head in shame, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment, but it was a scant second later he was staring at the 'vampire' again waiting for an answer.

"My skin shines on the light; there is nothing I can do about it. And I don't bite humans."

"Then how do you live?" The maiden inquired with interest.

"I drink animal's blood."

There was a pause and then Grell stepped away from the Undertaker and threw his arm around the vampire's neck, he petted him on the head gently.

"Oh, poor thing, you don't know how to hunt properly? Want us to bring you a nice soft human to feed from?" The man in a dress asked with a motherly care.

The vampire stood shocked with Grell's arm still patting him on the back and stared with the wide eyes at the maiden. "But I'm vegetarian!" He shouted and quickly moved away from her.

"A vegetarian vampire?" The Undertaker murmured thoughtfully to himself, before speaking up. "That's pitiful!"

"You are wrong! That's honorable! I don't hurt humans!" Shouted the 'vampire' backing further into the crypt in an attempt to put more distance between himself and the strangers.

"A vampire who shines and doesn't drink blood,you're such a disgrace to all vampires." Grell snorted and turned away to leave a strange creature, with the Undertaker following. The grey haired shinigami closed the doors of the crypt on his way out and looked around in search of a better hiding place not occupied by anything more than an odd, obviously deranged freak.

Grell strode through the maze of the corridors heading for his only destination. He had changed into his normal clothes and let his long red hair loose. Just an hour ago he left the Undertaker alone at the cemetery. _I hope he won't get bored there._ Even though he really didn't want to Grell decided he'd better do something to help the man. Moreover he had much better ways of finding a real murderer then the police.

After a few minutes of wondering he reached the office he was looking for and forcefully pushed the door open. Grell hesitated on the threshold calming down and entered.

"William!" He greeted cheerfully, coming up to the other shinigami's desk and hopping on the corner of it. "My dear friend, it's so nice to see you."

"I don't remember being friends with you, Sutcliff." The strict man replied not looking up from the papers he was working with.

"Oh, but we are! Remember how I help you the last time-"

"No." William cut him off.

"I need your help, Will."

"What gave you idea that you'll get it from me?"

"Please."

The dark haired shinigami didn't answer to that.

"Ple-e-e-ease-e-e…" Grell whined.

Hethen whined again and again and for a dozen more times, until William finally snapped:

"Shut up already! What do you want?" Finally he lifted his eyes to look at the other shinigami.

"See, told you we are friends." Grell smiled. "Now to the point. There was a murder yesterday night. A clown was killed by a cracker." William didn't look shocked or at least amused as Grell expected, so the red haired shinigami continued.

"I need to know who collected his soul and possibly I'd like to find out who the murderer was."

"Well, I don't know who killed him, but the one who took his soul was me." William answered calmly.

"Then…is there anything that can help me as I investigate the matter?"

"Wouldn't it affect your work, Sutcliff?"

"Promise it won't." Grell smiled.

William looked at him skeptically, and then sighed in slight annoyance.

"I think…I saw there someone. He might be a witness."

"Hm…that must be interesting. Do you know who that was?"

"Well, it might not be as easy as it seems. The witness was…" William looked down at the papers on his desk. "It was a cat."

Grell stilled and looked at the other shinigami with mocking amusement in his yellow green eyes, William missed the look though as he still studied some document. The red haired man suspected it was done on purpose.

"I don't think I'd be able to question a cat."

"Well, Sutcliff, how about an abnormal cat. A creature, maybe a person turned into a cat, or a cat with a personality, I don't know." William shrugged and finally looked up at his colleague.

"How do you know that?"

"He was wearing a bowtie and a tail-coat."

"How sweet!" Grell squealed but sobered soon. "Though, that really doesn't mean anything. I've bought Slashy a nice collar with a bow too."

The dark haired shinigami frowned at the stupid name but didn't question what had the poor creature, whatever it was who was a new Grell's victim, had done to get it. He just continued with his explanation.

"It was also shrieking when I appeared at the crime scene. It was screaming _in English_. Which gives me a reason to believe its intelligent enough to give you information about the murderer."

Grell's eyes lit up as the shinigami finished the sentence. He was almost bouncing at his feet and clapped his hands together.

"Well that's great news, Will. Thank you so much!" And he left the office before William could start rambling about Grell being late with fulfilling his duties lately.

* * *

**A/N: **We'd really appreciate it if you leave a review:)


	4. Black and Red

**Disclaimer****:** Kuroshitsuji is not ours. If it was Grell would have been the main character

**Beta****:** Lune De Marionette (previously known as Corrupted Innocence)

**A/N:**Sorry for those who are reading this story. It took us so long to write a new chapter. At least I hope you'll like it.

Of course with new chapter there also are new crossovers:)

* * *

How difficult could it be to find a cat in London? Shouldn't be too hard of a task, should it? Then how difficult could it be to find a talking grey cat in a tail-coat? Well, Grell was about to find that out.

The red haired shinigami assumed that the only clue he got was a coat. He had not seen many cats wearing clothes in his life; he had not seen _any_ to be precise. While wondering darkest streets of London pondering on the mystery he'd kept in mind that his cute Slashy would look fabulous in a dress.

A cat in a tail-coat, Grell decided, should have a special consciousness, a different self-awareness. It should have a mind very close to human. A talking cat that is able to _voice_ his wishes should have _a reason _for choosing his attire. Hence, the red haired man, understanding such reason quiet well decided to visit the Gentlemen's Club which was popular among London's nobility. Because, obviously, if you dress as a gentleman**,** you wish to be one. It was like Grell's own philosophy: if you dress like a woman it's because you want to be addressed to as a Lady.

* * *

Undertaker was bored. So very bored. The crypt, in which his maiden had left him in with a tortured promise not to leave until she returned, was exceptionally dull. Simple stone coffins without any elaborate decorations to examine, without any fresh corpses to dissect…The ex-shinigami glanced around, the poor light of candles illuminating small closed space. He slumped onto the nearest coffin and prepared for a long wait.

* * *

By the evening of that day Grell found himself standing in front of the main entrance of the club in what he called the perfect disguise. Wearing a black suit with a perfectly pressed white shirt, it was so proper it was making the man sick. Dressing in front of a large mirror an hour before Grell decided it'd be wonderful to add a bit of colour; so now bright fuchsia coloured cravat decorated his neck. Long dark brown hair was gathered in a low ponytail at the back of his head. Grell concluded he'd pass as a gentleman easily.

He eyed the big wooden doors of the club standing at the top of the stairs, took a deep breath and pushed the iron handle. He was greeted by a wave of soft light and the soft murmur of polite conversation as the doors opened. A man on the other side of the door, probably a servant, stared at him strangely but did not say a word, so Grell passed him and entered a large room with dozens of boring men in similar formal attire chatting lively. They all turned to glance at him briefly when he entered the room, but most just turned away, quickly resuming their conversations; some stared longer than was considered proper, but Grell just shrugged it off as his beauty being displayed, even by such a dull suit.

The shinigami in disguise looked around, his yellow green eyes searching for any resemblance of a cat present in this club. He found none, but it was too early to give up. His attention caught a lonely chair by the fireplace, silhouetted by the light of the flames. Grell settled into it comfortably, declining a glass of something that obviously was not a drink for a Lady and listened to conversations around.

"Did you hear about that recent murder case? Police said it was impossible to solve." One bold man asked another, who nodded vigorously in response.

"But it was already closed this morning," a young man interjected.

"Was it?" One of them asked skeptically.

The young man only nodded and smirked with an unpleasant slyness to his features, he paused, letting his opponents a few more seconds of feeling superior until he crashed their believes:

"Of course it was. By none other than Sherlock Holmes." The young man replied with triumph.

That sparked Grell's interest. As a man following fashion, he had heard this name many times…

"That new detective? Is he really worth anything?" The second bald man asked with the same skepticism as his friend.

"Of course he is. He's very talented." The young man retorted. "He's easily solved cases where police could not find any clues at all."

"I heard about Sherlock Holmes," Another gentleman joined their conversation. "Lestrade asked for his help with those clown murders, but Holmes refused. Said he wasn't interested in such stupid cases."

At that Grell scoffed loudly, too loudly as it appeared because the four men turned to stare at him; the shinigami in disguise laughed awkwardly grabbing a glass with dark amber liquid from the table to occupy himself with anything. He saluted with it rather vigorously, splashing liquid on the table, and drowned it all in one gulp. The drink burned and it took all his willpower not to let his face squint into a painful frown, but the gentlemen seemed to be satisfied with his display and returned to their argument.

* * *

The Undertaker was bored. After ah hour of pointless staring at the wall he started equally pointless pacing. He quickly realized though that pacing in room a few feet long could not be entertaining. He stopped, right in the middle of the crypt, frozen in deep thought…He wished he had brought his third edition of 'A Hundred Ways To Spend Your Time If You Got Stuck In A Small Crypt' with him.

* * *

Grell looked around the spacious room, dimly lit with candles in ornate chandeliers, in a search for a perfect victim for his interrogation. His gaze wandered from one figure to another analyzing who might be aware of criminal situation in London. There was no cat, but the shinigami decided he could talk to the people that were here while he waited.

His eye caught a lonely man in the farthest and darkest corner of the room, detached from all the gentlemen in the club. The man, old enough not to be considered young but young enough not to seem old, was regarding a gigantic picture of a knight fighting a vicious dragon, a glass of whiskey in man's right hand and a lit cigar in another.

Grell smirked as he eyed the man's lean but masculine figure, perfectly but not intrusively accented by his expensive tailored suit. This stranger was so close to being Grell's dream man.

_Such a pity I've already given my heart to precious Undertaker. Cheating is not a potion of course…Doesn't mean I can't flirt a little though. Just to get some information…_

With that thought in mind he got up swiftly and crossed the room in quick purposeful strides heading to his goal.

"Hello, sweetie," he purred.

The gentleman froze as he heard Grell's Seductive Voice Number 3, specially reserved for attractive strangers. The man turned around with deliberate slowness, his eyes taking in the disguised shinigami before him.

"How can I help you?" He asked politely, icy tone of his voice not matching helpful words.

"I just wanted to talk to you. You looked so lonely and I though you'd appreciate some company." Grell batted his eyelashes seductively as he clasped his hands behind his back. "Such a handsome gentleman as yourself should not be left alone."

"Excuse me?" The man inquired, his two thin black eyebrows going impossibly high up on his forehead turning a merely surprised expression to openly shocked one.

"Oh you know _what _I mean," Grell whispered; he winked at the man and leaned forward a little while placing one hand on his forearm.

_Flirt with him, relax him, make him like me and then interrogate! _Ran in Grell's mind and he already smiled at his inevitable success when he noticed bright red blush spreading across the man's cheeks.

Unfortunately for the observant shinigami that was not a blush of excitement…

* * *

The Undertaker was bored. Time passed, slower than ever, without anything to break his dull routine of pacing, stopping, staring. Half an hour before he added a sigh to his chain of actions. Then he decided that humming old songs might be nice. He was wrong again.

* * *

"Let me go!" Grell screeched at the top of his lungs as he was rudely pushed away through the back door and to the dark narrow alley by a servant. This servant had dragged him, gripping Grell's arm with too much force, through the hall of the club and threw him out after the gentleman the shinigami was flirting with exploded with rage because of been addressed with such familiarity and flirted with by a _man_.

The servant let go of Grell's hand and pushed him forcefully, sending him stumbling; the shinigami fell and landed ungracefully in the mud.

"That hurt you know!" Grell shouted when the door was slammed shut and he was left alone in the empty alley.

It was dark since the sun had set half an hour ago and light of lamplights didn't reach this place. Silently vowing to make his revenge on the rude servant and stupid gentleman not realizing how lucky he was to have Grell flirt with him (_Really, the man's morals are so old-fashioned._) the shinigami got up from the ground and attempted to brush the dirt off of his suit. This appeared to be impossible.

_It's good I didn't wear my favourite red coat today. _The shinigami thought when he realized with disappointment that the dark brown splashes were integrated in the material of his trousers forever. Feeling exhausted he turned around, ready to leave, but then he remembered the purpose of his trip to the club.

A cat. A cat which he did not find. Which meant that the Undertaker was still in deep trouble. With a sight and a realization that a ruined suit was lesser of his problems Grell sat at the stone stairs of the club. Unlike the ones leading to the front entrance these were made of rough stone, not the white marble that accented the front of the club lavishly. He shifted trying to make himself more comfortable, which proved to be impossible, and, defeated, sagged completely leaning back and resting his elbows on higher stairs.

He had no clue where to go next. Gentlemen's Club seemed such a brilliant idea.

"I can't believe they threw me out!" He exclaimed in frustration to no one in particular.

Unexpectedly he got an answer:

"Oh, I perfectly understand your feelings, young man," a voice beside him replied with the same devastation Grell felt.

The shinigami, a man difficult to shock, sighed and nodded.

"They are not gentlemen at all. How can they…" Grell sniffed, letting frustration and hurt take over. He threw his hand in the air and after a minute of wild gesturing with no point, put one hand on his lap while unlacing thin pink ribbon from his hair with the other. "How dare they treat a lady in such rude way!"

"We deviants always get mistreated." His sympathizer replied. "Look at me! The fact that I'm a cat should not mean I can't be a perfect gentleman. But they didn't even let me enter the club!"

"That snobs!" Grell assented. He nodded in agreement, long brown hair falling in his eyes. He put both elbows on his bent knees, resting his head on his palms. A long, suffering sigh, which he practiced on during long hours before a mirror, escaped Grell's lips as he stared down at the mud under his feet. The evening was turning worse and worse with every passing minute. The encouragement he felt earlier evaporated very quickly when he faced the wrath of a homophobic gentleman.

"And I didn't even want to go there." Grell whined sniffing. "So what if I'm a man? It doesn't mean I can't be a respectful lady!"

"Of course it doesn't," said a soothing voice of his interlocutor. "You can be whoever you want to be, young lad…lady."

"You are so nice!" Grell exclaimed turning to finally face the kind stranger. He didn't see anyone there though. The shinigami's eyes scanned empty alley in confusion trying to decipher where the replies came from.

"Down here," A voice clarified in a dignified manner.

Yellow green eyes looked down slowly, they winded in astonishment at finding a person who the voice belonged to. Bright green eyes which were staring right at him were the first thing that he noticed, then the light grey fur that appeared to be very soft, and oddly a black tail coat and a top hat that finished off the outfit. Grell fell silent, just looking at him, his brain coping much slower than his eyes.

"You're the cat!" Grell shouted finally, turning fully with one hand rising unconsciously to point at his interlocutor.

"How very observant of you."

"No! I mean you are _the cat_!" Grell countered stressing last word.

"Is that a problem?" A cat asked, trace of offense in his voice.

"No, that's not what I meant," The shinigami said with slight exasperation when his thoughts returned to order fighting down the excitement he felt. "I was looking for you."

"Well…" The cat thought for a second, staring at the wall on the other side of a narrow alley. "That's interesting. May I ask why?"

"I need your help!" Grell blurted out, all his posture showing eagerness to ask questions bothering him.

Brown hair fell into his eyes again with quick movement and a slender hand moved swiftly to remove it behind one ear. He pushed his glasses up his nose, sliding them on their proper place. The cat regarded him silently before replying in calm but pleased voice:

"I'd be happy to help you with what I can."

Grell smiled and took a furry small paw extended to him. A hand shake sealed their deal and the shinigami finally had a hope that he'd be able to do something for the Undertaker. He'd prove himself useful to the man he loved. A proud smile for the deeds he was yet to achieve crept across his features.

* * *

The Undertaker was bored.

* * *

"My name is Nico." The cat, Nico, introduced himself, answering smile making his long whiskers curl slightly at the ends.

"I am Grell," the shinigami returned the favour. Then he paused, contemplating if he should have introduced himself with his 'maiden' name. "Or sometimes, Gretel. Depends on my mood."

"Oh," was the only reaction he got. The cat turned away for a moment, his paws reaching for something behind him. He returned with a bottle of whiskey held securely in his paws. "Would you like some?"

"No," Grell scrunched his pointy nose at the offered bottle. "So…"

"What can I help you with?"

"Yesterday evening a murder happened. A victim was a clown, cause of death undetermined. I have a reason to believe you saw the murderer." Grell explained, his tone all business, green eyes skimming over cat's face in search for any signs of recognition.

"Well…" A cat took a swig from a bottle, a very undignified gesture, he understood – but it was not one of his best days, quiet on the contrary actually. "I guess there was something like that. Unfortunately I was too late to help the poor lad. There was nothing I could do for him."

"Oh, that's a shame," the shinigami replied with no much emotion behind his words. "So…have you seen the murderer?"

Nico shook his head with a sigh.

"No."

Grell felt his heart fall. If Nico couldn't help with investigation, Undertaker would have to suffer all the imperfections of judicial proceedings. The shinigami decided he could not let that happen.

"But…" A cat was talking again which immediately brought Grell's attention back to him. "I saw him running away, his back to me. Though I thought I smelled something funny...I can't place what it was, but it was rather specific."

"A smell?"

"Yes. I think I know it, but can't remember…" Nico did not finish, giving Grell a chance to think for himself. "Maybe I can with little help."

"Will you?" The shinigami asked letting his hope take over.

"I'll do my best," Nico smiled, his whisked face the kindest Grell had seen since the start of this horrible day.

"You are a real gentleman!" Grell shouted excitedly, in his elation forgetting all about a dirty alley they were in, stupid men who called themselves 'gentlemen' and could do nothing to help a lady, all those rude people who lashed out at what they did not understand.

The cat's eyes shone brightly with pleasure at Grell's proclamation. Nico looked around, making sure there was no one except them in the alley, and then whispered conspiratorially:

"I think it might have been opium." He lowered his head for a second and then looked back at the shinigami.

"Opium?" Grell asked with slight confusion. "You mean he smelled of opium?"

"More like stunk of it," the cat commented with clear disdain.

"Interesting…" Grell mused. "I think I can use it."

There were opium houses in London, even thought Grell wasn't personally familiar with them he had heard a lot. '_Blue Lotus_' was one of the biggest ones, and the red haired shinigami considered visiting it first. There was no mistaking where did the opium smell come from, especially such a strong one. Now Grell only needed to find the needed place. He was a little bit apprehensive of visiting such establishment.

* * *

Grell couldn't stop thinking about information he got from Nico on his way back to the cemetery, where the Undertaker was waiting. The night was almost over. The moon that was lingering in the sky was pale and lacking it's brightness whereas the sun was gaining it's power as it slowly made its acension. Pink coloured one side of the sky while the other was still dark blue, not for long though. The shinigami hurried his pace taking the shortest rout to the cemetery, to the Undertaker. Grell suppressed a stab of anxiety and hoped that nothing had happened to the man while he was away. He reassured himself with belief that nothing could take down _that man_. Strength always attracted the red haired shinigami and he was well aware that the Undertaker had more than enough of it. Even if he had been working as a coffin maker now he had once being one of the strongest shinigami. There were legends about his greatness. You can not easily forget such skill.

Grell smirked, unconscious to frightened glances he got from the passers by eyeing his sharp teeth, as he remembered how he ha bugged William into telling him stories about the Undertaker. He couldn't wait to see if _all _of the rumors he heard were true.

He tucked it into the corner of his mind to savour later. The air seemed colder and the shinigami looked around resurfacing from his thoughts. He was at the cemetery already. The thing that saddened most people put Grell's mind at ease. He stumbled across the uneven road winding between tombstones, before his foot caught on a stone; successfully leveling his weight, he managed not to fall and came to a stop. With a small pain in his foot an idea hit him.

"I forgot to change," Grell mumbled to himself disappointedly and looked down at what he was wearing: man's clothes. After a dramatic sigh he turned on his heels and dashed out.

* * *

When Grell finally entered the crypt, warm yellow glow of lit candles greeted him, creating a nice homey atmosphere inside. The Undertaker was longing on one of the marble family coffins. At the sound of heels echoing he turned his head and stared at the 'maiden' through his silver fringe. He looked worn out and lifeless like he had gone through days of mental torture.

"Oh, my Lady…Finally," he mumbled and threw his head back looking at the dark ceiling. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"I thought it was a nice place," the shinigami glanced around with confusion. It was so easy to distract him with one small comment.

"Oh, it is," the Undertaker reassured the maiden, for the first time that evening taking in her attire.

Grell had chosen a simple dress that evening. It was made of dark red velvet, skirt long but not frilly and not too tight as not to restrict his movements, hugging his hips and then falling loosely, winding around his ankles. A pattern of black roses was embroidered on the hem of the skirt, same pattern decorated top of the dress. He wore an equally red coat, falling from his shoulders and hanging on his elbows.

As the Undertaker looked at it he found the coat somewhat familiar, like he had seen it before, draped the same way over some other's figure.

"I'm just bored," the coffin maker continued his own sentence, standing up slowly and making his way to the maiden. "You look beautiful, if I may say so."

Grell blushed at the unexpected compliment, a shy smile making his way to his face. The Undertaker returned it with more confidence before turning to business:

"So was there a point for me to stay here for a whole day?"

"Of course there was!" Grell countered. "Those corrupt policemen didn't get you! _That _was the point."

"Oh…"

"Yes!" The shinigami stomped his feet, making dust fly around, to strengthen his words. "And also now we can continue our own investigation."

"Huh? Continue? When did it start?" the Undertaker asked but the shinigami wasn't listening.

"We will catch the criminal and clean your name!"

"But no one even knows my name," the coffin maker muttered hoping there still was a way for him to disagree. There was not.

"So you don't have to worry!" The maiden turned to the silver haired man, green eyes looking but not seeing. His words leaving his pretty mouth with unbelievable speed Grell proceeded to retell the Undertaker that days events, excluding misfortunate flirting and being thrown out from the cub. His speech got more detailed as he got to the part where Nico gave him a clue to how to find the murderer, and by the end he was particularly suffocating with his words. Excited yellow green eyes focused on the man in front of him again and Grell exclaimed:

"So our next stop is an opium house!"

"Is it proper for a lady?" The Undertaker frowned.

"But first we are having breakfast. Somewhere nice…" Grell muttered. "And then to the 'Blue Lotus'!"

The shinigami in disguise stood in his superior pose, one leg put forward, red shoe stuck from the hem of red dress.

"I'm not sure a lady should be so enthusiastic about going to an opium house."

* * *

**A/N: **So, does anyone know where this cat is from? I think it must be pretty obvious for those who watched this anime. But it was not the only one crossover in this chapter…I couldn't resist putting a rather remarkable phrase from my favourite TV series as well;)

There is only a couple of chapters left. I hope it won't take us too long to finish this story.

As always your reviews are very much appreciated:)


End file.
